The Case for Dramatic Winter Gloves: Upgrade Those Formless Mittens Before It's Too Late

We get it: You talk with your hands. But don’t think that covering up that tasteful manicure and carefully curated ring selection is muting you this season. A well-chosen glove heightens the drama and beauty of any gesticulation; it's the missing link your hands—and wardrobe—have been looking for. And there are so many options, from a dramatic, Cruella de Vil opera glove (like dipping an arm to the elbow in cashmere lining) to a more masculine, lion-in-winter glove (favored by aging monarchs and CEOs alike): black leather, darts at the wrist, seamless, slightly pointy fingers. There's the Victorian lady approach, all covered buttons in brown calfskin. Take any of them off inside and give a playful limp glove-slap to your interlocutor—don’t you look storied? You're basically Joan Crawford, only with real eyebrows.

Gloves are the masquerade-mask of the hands. Gloves can make any wearer bolder. You can imagine Grace Kelly flagging down a taxi, clutching limp white gloves in her waving hand and a pillbox suitcase in the other. Or just as easily see Caroline de Maigret slouching into an oncoming lane, biker gloves snapped on, leaning listlessly out to traffic, arm outstretched. See? Chic. Plus, they're just so damn efficient. Not only do they keep your digits toasty (or at least ward off a chill), but they’re the ultimate nod to urban protection. You can see why the boxers do it (and why those Alexander Wang H&M homages were snapped up so quickly)—gloves make you feel like you’re about to take on any adversarial element. Because there’s a grittier side to the glamour, especially when you can’t be in a subway or drugstore for a minute without a loudspeaker announcement that “cold-and-flu-season” is upon us (and you thought it was the holiday season). In these compromising conditions, gloves make you feel invincible. Grab every hang-strap and slide a hand down every guardrail with impunity. Keep gloves on in the supermarket and carry your shopping basket with covered hands. You can traipse and gallivant around all day, and, when evening falls and you’re having a cocktail with a friend, remove your gloves to embrace (it’s only polite) and tear into a crostini. Your hands are still as clean and fresh as when you put them on, which is not to mention the refined elegance of glove removal. Has something so austere ever looked so seductive?